Here Is Real Magic by Nate Staniforth

Author:Nate Staniforth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing

THE SNAKE CHARMER

Time was different here. On tour I was accustomed to rolling out of bed, already on the move, and immediately breaking the day down into a series of next steps, action items, bullet points on a list, crossing them off as I went. So far I hadn’t been able to shake my habit of early rising—I suppose this had something to do with the time zone, too—but I’d lie still in my room and listen to the wind coming up the river, or head out into the courtyard when the world was still dark and sit facing east, waiting for the sun to rise over the opposite shore. I could think, not about work but about the ideas behind the work, or maybe I’d just sit and not think, and this was a revelation. I had been working like a madman for years—when I found Houdini’s quote about working from seven A.M. to midnight I took him seriously. For some kids it’s football. For others it’s grades. For me it was always practice, and for the first time in years I didn’t feel busy yet didn’t feel as if I was wasting time, either. On tour I had been chasing something from venue to venue, room to room, moving across the country, and it had led me here. So I was here, and for the moment I was happy to figure the rest out as I went.

A few days after arriving in Varanasi I woke just before sunrise and walked down the stairs through the open-air courtyard. I sat on a chair at the edge of the patio overlooking the Ganges, thinking about tea and something to eat and waiting for the restaurant to open. The air was already warm. The sky was pink and yellow. Below I could see a solitary flute player at the edge of the water, and the sound of his music joined the slap of wet clothes on stone as men did laundry by the banks of the river. A pack of monkeys ran the roofline of a building and disappeared into a tree. By midday the color on these buildings would look sun-worn and faded, but the early-morning light made them glow and the entire city shimmered—red, blue, yellow. On a balcony across from me a father carried a tray of teacups and a mother ushered her children to sit and drink. A goat wandered haphazardly down the long staircase to the river. Every road in the city leads eventually to the river. It’s the center of everything.

As I watched the city begin its day I noticed Andy a hundred yards down, camera in hand. I didn’t know he was already up. Apparently he got what he wanted with the camera and began the long climb up the staircase to our hotel.

“Is the restaurant open yet?” He sat down across from me.

“Almost, I think. I heard them in there a minute ago.”

“I wanted to get some good shots of the sunrise before we head over there.

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